Everything Is Different Now
by PhantomTwilighter2009
Summary: What happens when the roles between Erik and Christine have switched? Starts off as them as children. R&R!
1. At The Beginning

**I'm on a role with my stories! I just noticed that in the story I just posted, A New Year's Surprise, that I had used a Christmas carol and that it was New Year based story. Oh well, I guess I'm just really into the spirit of things. Yay. My grandparents have made it here in one piece, luckily, because it's really snowing here right now! Fun! I love the snow, but when you get foot after foot after foot, it gets more annoying than pretty. Alright, I'm done with my rambling, here's the story!**

**Everything Is Different Now**

Christine silently walked through the halls of the opera house; it was very late and this was her favorite time of day to roam. Nobody could see her this way, which always made her feel safer. Lightly touching the smooth piece of porcelain on her face, Christine sighed, wondering, once again, why she was cursed with such a mark.

Suddenly, the sound of muffled crying reached her highly sensitive ears. Who could possibly be up this late at night? Following the noise, Christine found a boy, around 8, curled up into a ball; his skinny arms wrapped around himself. _I've never seen him before. Where did he come from? _

"Mama, Papa, why did you leave me? I miss you so much." he whispered hoarsely; he had a silky voice, even though it cracked. What had happened to his Mama and Papa? Deciding that she should go find her adopted mother, Christine turned away from the boy in the chapel, but nearly fell down when she bumped into a solid body.

"Christine? What in the world are you doing here?" Madame Giry asked, curious as to know why the little girl was wandering the halls of the opera house at this hour. The girl was only 6 and she had already been spotted by the stagehands more than once, which earned her the nickname, 'La Spectre D'opéra'.

"I'm sorry, Maman Giry, but I heard this boy crying and I wanted to find out what was wrong with him." she replied innocently enough. Looking back at the boy, Christine noticed that he had stopped crying and had fallen asleep; a bit of his face showed through his arms. He had slightly tanned skin, a perfect nose, and thick, dark hair that shined even in the dim candlelight.

"Oh, you must be talking about Erik." Madame Giry said, seeing the child Christine was looking at; she had forgotten to mention that someone new had entered the opera.

"Erik? Where did he come from?" Christine questioned; her tiny nose scrunching up at the thought. She really didn't like new people coming into her opera house without her permission.

"We honestly don't know, my dear. A lady had come up to the manager's office with him and begged him to give the boy a spot on the ballet or chorus. As you know, the manager is a kind old man and easily gave in; the boy didn't even have to audition. Once the woman left, all he told us was that his name was Erik and that he wanted to get some rest. I don't know what to do with him, Christine! The boy can't dance and, since he never auditioned, he can't join the chorus."

"He can play with me," Christine suggested quietly, "I've always wanted to play with somebody."

"No, Christine. Besides, I thought you like to be alone."

Pouting, Christine opened up the gate she had been hiding behind and walked silently up to the boy, Erik. Pushing back his long strands of black hair, she smiled warmly at Erik. "May he please stay with me, Maman Giry? I'll teach him all I know about music and hopefully by next season he can join the chorus. Please?" Christine pleaded. The more she looked at Erik's sleeping form, the more she wanted know about him and be with him.

Sighing, Madame Giry couldn't help but smile herself as she watched her adopted daughter run her delicate fingers through the boys thick hair. Perhaps a friend would be good for the little girl; she might even stop _haunting_ the opera house.

"Fine, but, you must watch out for him. If I hear one word from the managers, I'll send him to the boys dormitories, where he should be."

Squealing softly, Christine quickly jumped up and hugged Madame Giry tightly. Oh, she had so much to teach Erik! Maybe he could run around the opera with her! "Thank you, Maman Giry! I promise that I'll keep us out of trouble."

Turning back around to face Erik, Christine shook his shoulder gently; trying to wake him up. "Erik, wake up. Maman Giry and I are going to take care of you now."

Erik felt someone shaking him, probably trying to wake him up, but he didn't want to wake up! He wanted to lie on the cold, stone floor and join his parents in heaven. "Go away. I don't need anyone." he mumbled sleepily, but he still opened his eyes to see who was touching him; he sat straight up at who he saw. There was a girl, no older than 6, sitting next to him; she had curly brown hair that reached her waist, long, delicate fingers, chocolate colored eyes, and a white mask that sat on her pale face. Standing next to her was the older woman he had met earlier today, Madame Giry. Looking back at the girl, Erik wondered why there was a mask on the girl's face; she had a really pretty face and all the piece of porcelain was doing was blocking it from his view.

Christine's smile widened as she saw his eyes; one eye was a beautiful blue, almost like the sky, and the other was a mysterious golden color. "Bonjour, my name is Christine. You have very nice eyes." she whispered shyly. The boy was handsome and she could feel a slight blush rising into her cheeks.

"Merci. Nice to meet you, Christine. My name is Erik." he too, whispered quietly. Her eyes sparkled with a joy he hadn't seen since...his mother...

"I know this is sudden, but do you want to live with me?" Christine asked, biting her soft, pink lip. What if he didn't want to live with her? What if her mask and face messed everything up, as it usually did?

Giving a soft smile himself, Erik nodded his head as he shakily stood up on his legs. How long had he been crying anyway? Grasping Christine's tiny hand in his larger one, he followed her as she led him back behind the gate. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to my home. Maman Giry can't come with us since she has her daughter, Meg Giry, to look after. Plus, she's the ballet mistress and she needs to be back here early tomorrow morning." Christine explained as they began to descend below the opera. Christine's mind began to wander as the lights began to get dimmer and dimmer the farther they went. Would Erik like her home? She and Maman Giry made it, but it was made just for a young girl; there was nothing down there for a boy to do. _He might like my library, even though it's small? Perhaps he knows how to play the violin! He could play it just like Papa..._Papa...all that blood....

Shaking her head, Christine kept walking forward, trying to erase the last memory of her papa. Soon, they came upon the underground lake. Squeezing Erik's hand, she motioned for him to get into the boat, but all she heard was a splash.

"I'm wet!" Erik yelled, feeling the water soaking his shoes and pants. Where on Earth were they? And why was there an lake underneath the opera house? Does every opera house have a lake?

Christine giggled softly; Erik probably couldn't see as well as her in the dark. "I'm sorry, Erik. Here, the boat is right next to you." she told him, getting in herself and picking up the oars. Even though she was 6, she was able to row Erik and herself across the lake, but, by the time they reached the other side, her arms felt like they were going to fall off. She was only used to rowing herself across and if Maman Giry came with her, she was the one who rowed. Helping Erik out of the boat, Christine took his hand once more and led him toward the door to her home.

"Welcome to my home." Christine announced happily, opening the door proudly. Erik felt a small smile on his face as he looked around. There were red rugs all over the stone floor, a fireplace, a writing desk, several vases placed everywhere, all filled with roses, and a couple pink tapestries hung from the cavern walls. It was girly, but it was nice; a lot better than where he had been living the past few days.

"What do you think? I'm sorry that it's only filled with girl stuff, but I never expected a boy to come live with me. Here, follow me and I'll show you the room that you can stay in." Christine smiled, tugging on Erik's hand. She was glad to see an approving smile on his tan face; hopefully he would like his room as he liked the rest of her home. Pulling back a black velvet curtain, Erik's smile widened as he looked around the room. It was girly like the rest of the house; instead, the carpet was beige, the tapestries that clung to the walls in this room were a blood red color, a massive bed sat in the middle of the room, the sheets looked navy blue and made out of silk with a light blue comforter on top, and an organ covered most of the wall on the right side of the room.

"It's...amazing in here. Is this your room?" Erik asked, turning around to face his wonderful hostess. She was standing by the piano that was in the other room, looking down at her shuffling feet.

"It is, but I don't mind if you take it. I'll just sleep the sofa." she replied. She really didn't want to give up her room, but Erik needed somewhere to sleep and it wouldn't be the first time that she's slept on the sofa.

"I can't take your room! I can sleep on the sofa; it's more comfortable than where I used to sleep." Erik protested. He couldn't take Christine's room! He would be intruding in her space and she had been so kind to him for the short time that they'd known each other.

"It's okay, Erik. You can have my room for tonight and I'll have Maman Giry bring down a small bed tomorrow." Christine insisted as she sat down on the sofa, pulling a soft, black blanket out of a basket that was next to the couch.

Erik shuffled his feet a little, feeling a bit bad because he was taking his hostess's room, but she just kept on insisting! She reminded him of a smaller version of his mother... Walking over to Christine's bedroom, he turned around to wish her good night, but laughed instead at what he saw: Christine was already fast asleep; the blanket wasn't even covering her petite body yet.

Walking back over, Erik picked up the black blanket and gently draped it on her body. Before he left, he noticed that her porcelain mask was on crooked. Why did she wear that thing anyway? She had a pretty face; why the mask? Wrapping his long, thin fingers around the edges, Erik lifted off the mask and gasped at what he saw; the skin was red and bumpy, but it was also stretched over her cheekbones. He could see the blue veins pulsing underneath, the scarring, the unnatural way her face was shaped, yet, he was disgusted. Smiling sadly, Erik replaced the mask, tucking as curl behind her ear.

Christine nuzzled her face into the pillow, murmuring, "Papa" _Papa? If she has a papa, then why is she living under the opera house? _

"Bonne nuit, Christine. I'll see you in the morning." with that, Erik walked back to her bedroom and dropped happily onto the giant bed; chuckling as he felt the silk of the sheets rub against his skin. Burying his head in the pillow, he inhaled a sweet mixture of roses and vanilla.

For once, since he had lost his parents, Erik fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

**I hope you guys like that! I originally started it a couple weeks ago, but it had to be put on hold because I was on vacation visiting family and all that good holiday stuff. Now, I can leave this as a one shot, or, I can continue it; it's completely up to you guys! I think I'll add a few more chapters onto it, but I doubt I'll make it very long! I hope you liked it!**

**^.^**


	2. This Is Opera!

**Hey guys! Sorry about not updating sooner! School has been absolutely insane; the first week back always is. Just to let you all know, I'm putting Memories simply because nobody is reviewing. If I feel the need to, I'll write a new chapter, but I do appreciate reviews! It lets me know if my story sucks or if it's awesome! I screwed up in Chapter 1; I said that Erik was disgusted by Christine's face. What I meant to say was that he WASN'T! Erik thinks Christine is perfectly normal! Anyway, I'm going snowboarding and shopping next weekend so I don't think I'll update for awhile after this. I'll try to update one of my stories sometime this week, sorry if I don't! Love you all still! Enjoy Chapter 2!**

**Everything Is Different Now**

Christine stretched her limbs out, happy that they weren't sore; they usually ached whenever she slept anywhere else but her bed. Opening her eyes, she rubbed them with her tiny fist and sat up, letting the black blanket she had been using fall to the ground. At some point between her falling asleep and waking up, all of the candles had burned out. Standing up, Christine grabbed the matches that she knew lay in the draw next to the couch.

Striking it against the stone floor, she grabbed a candle that sat nearby and lit it; it's weak light casting eery shadows on the walls. The shadows had always fascinated Christine ever since she was a little girl. Her papa definitely thought it was strange, a two year-old girl loving the dark, but he shrugged it off and sit with her in her room for hours in the dark....

Shaking her her curly head, Christine walked over to where her room was, being mindful of all the music sheets that were littered on her floor, and pulled back the curtain, bursting with laughter at what she found: Erik was sprawled out on her bed, sheets tangled in his long legs, his midnight black hair, almost as dark as the shadows that surrounded them, was disheveled and hanging in his face.

Christine lit a few of the candles in her room and sat on the edge of the bed, twirling Erik's hair between her tiny fingers. Erik's face scrunched up and his body began to tense. Pulling her hand away, Christine wasn't sure if she should leave, but before she could even move, his hand shot to his face. It looked as if he was trying to defend himself.

"Please...s-stop! Leave...leave Maman alone!" he whispered frantically. Christine frowned at this and reached for his hand, hoping to calm him down. Lightly touching his hand, Erik's eyes popped wide open and his breathing rapid. "Maman?"

"Erik, it's me, Christine. No one is here; it's only me." she cooed softly, stroking back his hair. His golden eyes remained wide for a moment before tears began to gather in them.

"I-I...I'm sorry, Christine." he whispered, shaking. Why on Earth was he apologizing? He didn't do anything wrong. Smiling warmly at him, Christine moved so that she was lying down beside him.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Erik. You had a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, wiping away the falling tears. Christine was no stranger to nightmares; she often dreamed of her papa. That scene from three years ago repeated in her mind nearly ever night...

"It was...about my maman. I-I can't say anymore." his voice whispered. He couldn't talk anymore about her; whenever he did, all he could think of was all the blood he had seen...

Smiling, Christine rested her tiny hand on his broad shoulder, "That's okay. Just calm down, shh. _Close your eyes, don't you cry. Let the sorrow within you subside. Don't despair, have no fear. Give your weight to me when you hear this lullaby._"

The song had been from her childhood; Christine could remember her maman singing those words to her after someone had beaten her on her way home from the market. _"Maman, why do they hate me?" ___ she had asked after all of her cuts had been cleaned. _"Nobody hates you, mon cherie. You're just a little different, that's all. Just remember, now matter what happens, no matter what anyone says, your papa and I think you are beautiful."_

Erik looked at Christine curiously as he watched tears fall out of the younger girl's eyes. Wasn't she just calming him down? Why was she crying? "Christine? Are you alright?"

Christine lifted her chocolate eyes to meet his worried golden ones. "Yes. The song just reminded me of my maman and papa." Sighing, she got out of the bed and walked over to her closet and grabbed a forest green dress. Despite living underground and nobody seeing her, she always wore the best clothing imaginable; all of her dress were of the latest style for girls her age, nightgowns made out of the finest silk, everything was of the highest quality.

"Are you sure?" Erik asked again, noticing that her shoulders were shaking and her petite body was tense. Did she loose her parents too? Remembering her face, perhaps her parents hated her, most would if they had a child as deformed as she was.

Turning around, the little opera ghost dropped her perfect green dress and slammed into Erik's chest, quietly sobbing in her new friend's warm chest. "I want my...my maman and p-papa back." she whimpered. Ever since the night it had happened, Christine had been praying that God would be nice enough to send her parents back, but so far, nothing happened. She knew it was a stupid idea, but she was only a little girl who wanted her maman and papa back, even if it made her look and feel silly.

"I want mine back too, Christine." Erik whispered, rubbing his hand up and down her back comfortingly. The guilt that he looked at Christine's face the other night was beginning to mount; he had no right to see her face, even though he thought nothing of it. Taking a deep breath, Erik pulled Christine back just far enough so he could see her wet, masked face. She looked so tiny and helpless, the complete opposite of what he had seen last night. Last night, he had seen a brave girl who could fend for herself and made her own decisions, but now, he actually saw the hurting six year-old child inside and, despite the fact the he himself was only eight, he wanted to chase away all of her pain.

But first, he needed to talk to her about the mask.

"Christine, thank you for letting me stay here; it's definitely an improvement from the boys' dormitories," this made Christine crack a small smile; she knew how awful the boys could be, especially on someone new, like Erik, but they had their moments of kindness, but that was once in a blue moon, "but, despite all you have done for me, I...I did something without your permission."

"If you looked through my things, I don' mind." she said quietly; she did mind, but she didn't want Erik to feel uncomfortable in her home.

"I would never go through your things! Though, this is worse than looking through your belongings," he had come this far, he wasn't going to chicken out now; he couldn't! "Christine, I took your mask off while you were sleeping." All the words seemed to rush out and, for a moment, Erik felt relieved that he told her the truth, but the look on Christine's pretty face crumpled his feelings and threw them out the window. She was shocked, frightened, and angry all at the same time.

_He took my mask off?! How dare he take it off?!_ Pulling herself away from Erik, glaring daggers at his face. "Why?" she hissed. Taking her mask off, she threw it against the wall, watching sadly as the piece of porcelain shattered into hundreds of white pieces.

Erik stood in his spot, horrified at what the little girl in front of him was doing. If he had known she would have gotten this upset, he would have kept it to himself! "C-Christine...I didn't mean to! I was just wondering why you wore it; you looked so pretty and I thought you wore the mask for no reason and I wanted to see if the rest of your face was as pretty as the rest of it."

"Sure you did! Nobody looks under my mask, Maman Giry doesn't even know about this!" she gestured to the twisted, sunken, and stretched skin that covered her right cheek. "I'm not pretty! I'm ugly! You, Maman, and Papa are wrong!" she screeched, running out of the room and heading straight for the tiny rowboat. She didn't want to leave Erik here, alone and feeling guilty, but her selfish side told her that he _deserved_ to be guilty and alone!

Erik felt tears roll down his cheeks, questioning himself why he bothered to tell Christine about the horrible, yet innocent, thing he had done. Another thing that saddened him was all the anger that she was able to lash out at him; she was only six! What had happened in her short life to make her so sweet and lovely, but angry and bitter if provoked? Walking over to the shattered mask, Erik picked up a the biggest piece he could find, twirling it between his fingers. _What have I done? This is probably her only mask and I made her so mad that she went and smashed it. Perhaps I can get her a new one! _

Smiling, he pocketed the shard of porcelain, running excitedly out of the room, but he felt his smile fall as he noticed the rowboat was missing. _She must be going to find Madame Giry. Hopefully Christine will be able to forgive me..._

**12 Years Later**

Christine covered her sensitive ears as she listened to the horrifying voice that could only belong to one woman and one woman only: La Carlotta. _How is it possible that Paris comes to listen to this...noise?!_

"Soon, Carlotta. Soon, you'll be nothing more than a memory." she said, smiling wickedly down at the diva, who was currently mouthing off at the two new managers.

"No! I refuse to work under these conditions! Either you two pay attention to me! Or, I quit!" she screamed, her annoyingly high-pitched voice ringing throughout the opera. Christine couldn't help but laugh as she watched the corps cringe; they couldn't cover their ears, in fear that they may make the spoiled diva even more enraged.

Walking over to where the backdrops for the different scenes were kept, Christine pulled out a small knife and cut the rope, letting out a giggle as she heard the terrified shrieks coming from below.

"She's here, La Spectre D'opéra!" she heard Maman Giry's daughter, Meg, whisper to her friend, Erik.

Erik could only shake his head with amusement at what his best friend had done this time. Ever since they were children, he had kept his friendship with the opera house's resident ghost a secret; he and Christine both were afraid that, if someone were to find out that she wasn't the mischievous, and sometimes terrifying, and that she was only a teenage girl running around the opera, she would be forced to leave.

"Erik, are you alright?" Meg asked as she watched Erik's beautiful golden eyes go blank; he looked like he was thinking about something. Something that he wasn't going to tell anyone...

"I'm fine. Just...the ghost spooks me sometimes." he lied smoothly. Truthfully, he was no more afraid of Christine than he was of a rabbit. They often spent many nights down in her home beneath the opera, planning on what she was going to do with the managers, or how they were going to prank Carlotta.

Still, Christine had a fiery temper that often frightened him. It had definitely dimmed down since they were mere children, but it was there alright. Looking up, he was able to catch a glimpse of his friend; she was dressed completely in black, as she usually was, and, he noted with surprise, she was wearing her ebony mask today. It was the one he had given her for her birthday a couple years ago.

"_It's beautiful, Erik! I've never had a black mask before."_

She loved the mask as soon as she laid eyes on it, but, when she tried it on, she had turned around in her seat so Erik couldn't see her face. He still couldn't figure out why she wouldn't allow him to see her face; he had told a thousand times, at least, that he didn't care at all, but she still refused.

"I QUIT!" the roaring of the prima donna broke him once again from his world of daydreams. He obviously wasn't paying attention, but, from the looks on everyone's faces, Carlotta had quit. For good.

"Andre, we no longer have a singer! What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Firmin asked his partner, who was just as much frustrated as he was.

"What do you want me to do, Firmin? Opening night is tonight and we have no time to find another singer!"

"Excuse me, messieurs, but, if you're willing to change the roles, Erik Destler here could sing the part." Madame Giry suggested, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Had he heard her right? Was Madame Giry seriously suggesting that _he _was the one replacing Carlotta?!

"You can't possibly be serious, Madame! He's nothing more than a stagehand!" Andre snapped at her. He knew something wasn't quite right with the ballet mistress, but this was utter lunacy! How could she be suggesting that a stagehand take the place of a female part?

"I'm completely serious. All we have to do is take an opera that we have performed in years past with a male role and there you have it." she shot back with a proud smile on her face. Despite the fact that the only had a few more hours of rehearsal, but she felt confident that, if the dancers, chorus, and Erik worked hard enough, they would be able to pull it off.

"Can you even sing, boy?" Firmin asked bluntly, not caring whether or not the boy could sing. He wasn't even part of the chorus! "Certainly you can't, seeing that you're a stagehand."

Erik narrowed his golden eyes into flaming yellow slits. Of course he could sing! Christine had taught him everything he knew! "I can sing, Monsieur."

"Alright then, sing something, anything. I don't care if it's as simple as a lullaby. If you can sing, you'll get the leading role in Mozart's _Don Giovanni_." Andre suggested. He knew he was wasting his time, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch the cocky young boy mess up.

Erik looked back up into the rafters, smiling when he watched Christine nod back at him, a soft smile graced her flawless face. At least to him it was flawless. Taking a deep breath, he began to sing a song his mother had taught him when he was little.

_Dies irae  
Dies illa  
Solvet saeclum en favilla  
Teste davidcum sybilla_

Quantus tremor est futurus  
Quando judex est venturus  
Cunta stricte discus surus

Dies irae  
Dies illa  
Solvet saeclum en favilla  
Teste davidcum sybilla

Quantus tremor est futurus  
Quando judex est venturus  
Cuncta stricte discus surus

Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-u-turus  
Dies irae, Dies illa  
Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-u-turus  
Dies irae, Dies illa  
Quantus tre-e-mo-or e-est fu-u-turus  
Quando judex est venturus  
Cuncta stricte discus surus

Cuncta stricte  
Stricte discus surus  
Cuncta stricte  
Stricte discus surus 

Erik's deep voice rang throughout the opera and he forgot everything around him, even his ghostly friend in the rafters. He was lost in a sea of music, never wanting to be found. He had no desire to be found, but when the last notes died off, Erik stared at all the faces that were staring back at him.

Turning to look at Firmin and Andre, he had to force back a laugh at the look on their faces. They're jaws were nearly to the floor!

"M-My word! You have the part, boy!" Andre stuttered and shook his hand. His voice was perfect! It sounded as if the angels were singing along with him, which they were, but this one was in the form of a teenage girl, smiling proudly at him.

"Alright! I need someone to go dig up _Don Giovanni_ right now!" Firmin demanded and everyone awoke, as if in a trance, and began to hustle. How did the managers expect to get a whole new opera up and running before the patrons would begin to arrive?

**Hi! This is definitely an update that I had fun writing! I'm exhausted so I'm just going to leave it like this. I'll be updating Memories soon, so...hold your breath!**

**Erik: Bonne Nuit!**

**Me: aww! Merci, Monsieur le Fantome!**

**Erik: you're welcome, mon cherie.**

**He's so awesome! Night everyone!**

**^.^**


	3. De Chagnys Enter The Scene

**Hey! I'm getting ready to leave here soon to start snowboarding, but, right now, I have a little bit of extra time to write and update. I'm more than likely going to be leaving before I finish this, but who cares? As long as I update, I'm sure you people don't mind. I'm glad you guys enjoyed Chapter 2; I had a ton of fun writing it. Today, we find out what happened to Christine's parents. Erik's parents will come later on in the story so don't freak out on me! Here is Chapter 3! Enjoy!**

**Everything Is Different Now**

The applause rang throughout the opera house; it was nearly deafening to those upon the stage. They had just finished performing the last second _Don Giovanni _and everything went, surprisingly, smooth. Especially for Erik.

He had the biggest smile on his face and it sparkled in his unusual golden eyes. He looked up into Box 5, where he knew his friend was secretly waiting for him to get to his dressing room so they could go to her house. _I hope she's proud. She taught me everything I know about singing and music. I never would have gotten this far without her. And her pranks._

Laughing inwardly, Erik took his final bow and finally relaxed when the curtains closed. Rushing past the 'congratulations' and 'wonderful jobs', he at last made it to his quiet dressing room, but he was surprised when he found Madame Giry in it.

"Bonsoir, Madame." he said politely, wondering why the woman he considered his mother to be in the room. She simply smiled at him and handed him a cream colored note and a single white rose with a black ribbon tied on the stem.

"You've done well, Erik. Christine is very proud of you." the ballet mistress whispered happily, placing the note and rose in Erik's waiting hands. She never would have guessed that when Christine told her about Erik taking off her mask that the two would have stayed friends; close friends in fact. Nothing, not even her daughter Meg, could break the two apart.

"Madame Giry, I didn't see Christine sitting in the box tonight. I know she has a cough, but is it any worse than that? She always shows up on opening night." Erik asked worriedly. Getting sick never stopped Christine from attending the opera, not even the time when she caught pneumonia.

"She's fine, Erik. She was definitely up there watching you, but she had to leave early for something. Now, get changed; Christine is coming and I'm sure you don't want to wear your costume." Madame Giry said, leaving and pushing away admirers.

Erik sighed, stripping out of his tight costume and into a simple, loose white shirt and fitting black trousers. Picking up the note from his dresser, he read it over and over, smiling at the red childish handwriting,

_My dearest friend,_

_I'm sorry that I can't see you right away; I have some business that must be taken care of. I just want to let you know that I'm very proud of you and I shall see you at 10 o'clock. Not a minute more or less. _

_From your Phantom,_

_Christine_

Christine was always punctual and on time, even though Erik was the worst person to keep time. He and Christine could spend weeks down in the cellars and Madame Giry would have to take him back up by force, but seeing as how Christine was his teacher, they could always say that he was practicing.

Looking at the clock, Erik noted sadly that it was only nine. What could he do that could occupy him for an hour? As he thought this, there was a quiet knock at his door and it silently opened, revealing a woman who Erik hadn't seen since he was a child.

"Bonsoir, mon ami." the girl said, placing a white rose on his dresser, knocking Christine's onto the floor.

"Rachelle! How good it is to see you again!" Erik cried happily, holding his old friend close; he and Rachelle had been childhood sweethearts, but her father, the Comte de Chagny, became furious, even though she was only five and he seven.

"I know! You were wonderful tonight, Erik. Tell me, where on Earth did you learn to sing like that?" she asked, smiling brightly and delighting in his familiar face; he had grown up so much from when they were children! He was tall, broad, and muscular, he was probably a stage hand before he became a star, his thick black hair barely brushed the collar of his loose shirt, and his eyes showed the childish innocence he had retained, but also the maturity he had gained while growing up.

Erik stood frozen in his spot by the mirror. He couldn't tell Rachelle that his best friend who lived underneath the opera house had taught him to sing, so he came up with the next best thing, "It was my own Angel of Music."

"Stop teasing, Erik! That was only a childhood story your mother used to tell us! But no matter; I'll pry it out of you sooner or later. Now, will you accompany me to supper? I so wish to catch up on everything!" she questioned, hoping he would say yes.

"I'm sorry, ma amie, but I have a strict schedule; I must be here by ten and I don't think we could fit the past twelve years into a mere hour. Perhaps some other time?" he hated disappointing her, but he desperately wanted to see Christine; he hadn't seen her since his last lesson and that was over a week ago. Looking at the disappointment in her sky blue eyes, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and guided her to the door.

"I'm sorry that I can't go to supper with you; I promise, the next time you see me, we'll have lunch or supper together."

"Alright. Oh, I nearly forgot! My brother, Philippe, is the new patron of the opera so we'll be seeing each other more often. Isn't that fantastic?" Rachelle clapped her gloved hands together in excitement and without giving Erik the chance to respond, kissed his lips and ran off down the hall, her straight blonde swaying back and forth.

^.^

Christine had seen the whole thing; the kisses, the promises, the excitement. She felt like she was going to vomit. How could Erik promise that...that girl such a thing? Why hadn't Christine ever heard of her before? _I swear, Rachelle de Chagny, if you mess with my student, there will be hell to pay!_

She watched Erik leaning against the door frame, a hand against his lips, even though she couldn't see his face. Jealousy and betrayal pierced her heart and tears began to form; her and Erik shared many kisses...why didn't he react the same way? _This is what you deserve for getting your hopes up over nothing! They told you long ago that nobody could ever love you._

Wiping away the pathetic tears, Christine took a deep breath and slid the mirror back, startling Erik. "I'm sorry, Erik; I didn't mean to make you jump."

"Or did you?" he laughed, giving her a hug and a simple kiss on her perfect cheek. That was another thing that angered Christine; Rachelle was so beautiful. Christine couldn't even begin to be that beautiful or graceful. "What is wrong, Christine? I thought I performed well tonight."

Shaking her head, Christine looked up at Erik, giving him a strained smile, "It's nothing. Now, you did well, but don't get a Carlotta-sized ego. There were several notes that you missed, but you only got the piece this afternoon so I'm letting that slide, for now. If you miss anything tomorrow, I'll be very displeased."

"Alright. Can we go, please? I'm not in the mood to be up here with the living." he smiled and gave her hand a friendly squeeze. Christine merely smiled, leading him through the mirror into her dark world.

^.^

Rachelle was in wonderful spirits! She had never expected to see her old friend, Erik, singing on the stage of the Paris Opera! She was a little mad for being rejected, for she had never been rejected before, but she was sure he had declined many young ladies that night, but he had promised her that they would meet for lunch or supper.

Walking down the hall, she realized that she had dropped her favorite fan in his dressing room. Rushing back down the corridor, Rachelle was about to open the door when she heard a voice coming from inside. _Who could that possibly be? I thought he was on a strict schedule._

Pressing her ear against the door, she heard a woman's voice, giving Erik advice on his singing and Erik asking if they could leave. Rachelle prepared herself for the door to open, but nothing happened. She heard a strange scrapping and then there was silence. Opening the door, she was shocked that Erik, or the mysterious woman, wasn't there! He surely didn't disappear out of thin air! Walking around the room, she noticed something was wrong with the mirror; it seemed to be open.

Pushing back the mirror, Rachelle began to walk down the dark, damp corridor that unknowingly led her to the resident opera ghost's lair.

^.^

Madame Giry had seen the whole ordeal between Erik and the de Chagny girl; she knew that Christine had seen the whole thing and was worried about her adopted daughter. She knew that Christine loved Erik, but she would never tell him that, for she feared of ruining their friendship, but with the presence of this new girl, Christine, the ballet mistress hoped, would finally admit her feelings to her best friend.

She could also tell that there was something developing between him and the girl; it was obvious that they had known each other in the past, just from the way they talked to each other, and that they used to like each other. A lot. _Please don't crush Christine. She needs your love, Erik._

Walking down the hall, Madame Giry sighed softly when she heard the new patron of the opera, the Vicomte Philippe de Chagny, calling after her, "Madame! Madame Giry, wait!"

"Yes, Vicomte? I'm very tired and I wish to go to bed." she replied coldly; she didn't much care for they young man or his sister. They both seemed so spoiled and they made everyone feel inferior.

"I'm sorry, Madame, but I can't find my sister, Rachelle, anywhere. She told me that she was going to go see the lead singer and that she would meet me at the carriage, but that was thirty minutes ago. Please, Madame, I need you to help me find her." he rushed, pushing his long, blonde hair out of his green eyes. He didn't like the old ballet mistress; she was always stuck-up and acted as if she knew everything, but she was the only one here who knew the opera house like the back of her hand.

"I must apologize, Monsieur le Vicomte, that I haven't seen or heard from your sister this evening. And if I did, I would have told her to leave our star, Erik, alone. Now, if you will excuse me," she said, trying to move past the tall, skinny young man, but he refused to budge! _Insolent boy! _

"I'm not leaving this opera house without my sister. So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Show me where I can find my sister or I'll send in the police and they'll force you to do so."

"Brute force will never get you what you want, Vicomte, but, since the managers would be very displeased if their patron brought a bad name upon the opera because of me, I'll show you a few places where the Vicomtess coud have gotten lost." Madame Giry sighed. This boy was impossible! What made all the women in Paris go crazy for this man? He was rude, pushy, and many other things she did not dare think.

"Merci, Madame." Philippe said politely, but with a cold edge to it. He just wanted to find his sister and get out of the God forsaken building!

**There is a lot of stuff going on right now and I know the chapter was very short. Sorry! It's tough trying to write three different stories, but I brought it upon myself. So, who do you think will end up with who? Will it be Erik and Christine? Rachelle? Will Madame Giry just ditch Philippe and let him throw his hissy fit? Just review and keep reading in order to find out!**

**^.^**


	4. Inner Beauty, Outer Beauty

**Forgive me for not updating sooner! I've decided that I need to upload every single one of my stories before Saturday.**

**Erik: What's happening Saturday?**

**Me: I have to go to work and then go to Seattle.  
Christine: Your dad lives there, right?**

**Me: Yup! I'm super excited to go visit him! But enough of that. I'm not entirely sure how often I'll be able to update because my schedule is so…yeah.**

**Erik: Don't forget me!**

**Me: I would never forget you, Erik! **

**Christine: He's my Phantom!**

**Erik: I'm so happy! Girls are fighting over me! .**

**Everything Is Different Now**

Rachelle wandered through the dark passages, shrieks of fright escaping her mouth every five seconds. Who could possibly live down in this dreadful place? It was cold, damp, and smelled like mold! As she continued her descent, Rachelle could faintly hear two other voices: one was Erik's voice and the other was the mysterious woman's. What were they doing down here? Did Erik…live down here? And with some strange woman? _This would destroy his career if the managers found out! I must get him and bring him back up with me._

Lifting her skirts, she began to run, her tiny heels clicking softly against the stone. She had to catch up to Erik! She just had to! She couldn't let her childhood friend's reputation be tarnished because of this. The managers will throw him out into the streets, but, if that did happen, she could have him come live with her. It could be like when they were children! Erik used to come over all the time when they were younger! With memories of the past giving her strength, Rachelle picked up her pace and followed the voices, which were now steadily increasing.

Rachelle soon began to run out of breath, not used to so much activity, but was greeted with a dim light and what appeared to be a lake. What was a lake doing underneath the opera house? Deciding that she could wonder later, she looked around for anything that could help her cross the lake. Then her eyes fell upon a boat; it wasn't very big and she would have to row it herself, but that didn't matter. The only thing that she cared about was her friend and getting him away from that woman. Stepping into the boat, Rachelle nearly fell into the water, which looked icy, and she began to wish her brother was there with her; he was definitely to more adventurous of the two.

After battling with the small wooden boat, Rachelle was able to grab the oars and began to row, but it proved to be much more difficult than she had originally planned. All her life she had been pampered and had never been allowed to do physical activity, unlike her brother, who was allowed to run around, climb trees, and row on the lake when he was younger. Now, she wished that she had been born a boy so she could have done those activities with him, but there was nothing she could do. She just had to suck up the labor and row with all of her might. _Remember, you're doing this for Erik. Erik, Erik, Erik. _

^.^

Christine and Erik had been sitting in the living room; the two of them were just simply enjoying each others company. Erik was concerned about his friend; she hadn't said a word to him since they left his dressing room and usually he had to tell her to calm down and not to rush her speech. When they had reached her home, she silently showed him to the table, where she had a simple dinner prepared for the two of them, but as soon as he sat down, she had run off to her room and played her organ until he finished eating. Erik knew better than to disturb Christine when she was in one of her moods, he decided that he would sit in the living room and wait for her to come out. After thirty minutes alone, he knocked hesitantly at her door and was surprised when she answered without her mask on.

She looked as if she had been crying and he wanted to ask, but thought better of it. If she wanted to tell him what was wrong, she would eventually. All Erik did was give Christine a grin and was able to coax her out of her room and without her mask on! He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Christine in her own house without out her mask on. Now, it was just the two of them and nobody could possibly interrupt them now. But then he was proven wrong.

Christine was the first to hear it; she, after all, had extremely sensitive hearing and could hear a pin drop in the middle of a crowded street. She stood up from her seat on the couch and walked quickly back to her room. Erik was puzzled as to why she left, but soon heard the sound of splashing and realized that someone had found them. _Nobody but Madame Giry knows about this place and Christine had been careful to close the mirror…or did she leave it open by mistake? This could end very badly, especially if someone recognized her as the opera ghost. _Rushing to Christine's room, Erik noticed that she had only left to retrieve her mask and was saddened that he couldn't see her face anymore. He honestly didn't understand why she wore that cold, unforgiving piece of porcelain; her face had cleared up a little as she matured, but the vast majority of the deformity was still visible and he could understand why she would want to wear it.

"Who do you think it could be?" he whispered, following his friend back into the sitting room, where she casually sat back down on the sofa as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"It could be Maman Giry, but I highly doubt it; she usually tells me when she's coming for a visit." The girl yawned and rested her head on a pillow. She honestly didn't care if someone had found out about her home; she had traps set up all over the place and only she and Erik knew where they were. He had helped design them.

"But what if they find you? Christine, you've been seen by almost every stage hand and I've had to cover for you every time. Please, mon ami, we need to find out who it is."

Christine could see the concern in Erik's blue and gold eyes and gave in. If it would calm him down, she would personally go see who dared enter her home. "Stay here and I promise that I'll be back in a second." She smirked and walked out of the room for the second time. Erik didn't like the smirk that he was given; it made him feel uneasy and she only did that if she was going to do something that he didn't approve of. _Don't do anything rash! _

Pulling back a curtain, Christine ascended a flight of stairs and walked along a secret passage, which gave her the whole view of the lake. She hadn't been up there long before she saw the person who had destroyed her peaceful evening with Erik. For the _second_ time that night! Rachelle de Chagny.

"Mademoiselle," Christine called out softly, "what are you doing here all alone?"

Rachelle froze at the sound of the mysterious woman's voice, but she couldn't see her. "Where are you hiding? You must be a coward!" she snapped, although there was fear behind her threat.

"How dare you accuse me of being a coward, Mademoiselle de Chagny? I am La Spectre D'opéra! You should be cowering at my feet, Mademoiselle!"

Hearing the anger in the voice, Rachelle was beginning to regret that she ever came down the passage, but she had to focus on Erik and getting him out of here and away from this…this mad woman!

"I refuse to leave! Until you give me Erik Destler, I will not budge an inch."

Christine felt her heart stop at the statement; she wanted Erik? Could this woman possibly be in…in love with him? Was there something Erik wasn't telling her about? Did he love this woman too? No! He possibly couldn't! He would have told her if he did! "Erik Destler is not here, child. Now, leave and never return to the opera ghost's domain."

"I know that you don't exist! You're just a woman pretending to be a phantom so you can scare the managers to do whatever it is you want. I hear from everyone that you hide because you're ugly. Is that true? Are you as ugly as everyone says you are?" Rachelle shrieked. When she only heard silence, she knew that she had struck something deep within the woman. "So you are! Why don't you show me your face, Madame Opera Ghost?"

Christine covered her ears; she couldn't take it anymore! Those jeers…they sounded so familiar! Why did they have to sound so familiar? Closing her eyes, her thoughts quickly turned to the memory of that night. The night her maman and papa had been killed…No! She couldn't think of that night! _That was a long time ago, Christine. Don't let her words scare you! Remember, you're the one who scares people. _

Before another harsh word could escape Rachelle's mouth, a familiar, booming voice rang out in the cavern, "Stop!"

Christine looked over at the shore and saw Erik standing there, nearly ankle deep in the icy lake water. Was he…was he defending her? Why would Erik be defending her when he knew that she was perfectly capable of protecting herself? Deciding that she would deal with him later, she retreated back down the stairs and closed the curtain. Taking a couple of deep breaths, Christine made an advance towards the door, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard Erik shouting,

"What the hell are you doing here, Rachelle? _How_ did you get down here?"

"I-I saw a light coming…from behind the mirror. I'm sorry, Erik, I didn't mean to come down here! I heard your voice and that woman's and I immediately became concerned about your career; if the managers found out that you were staying with a woman, they would throw you out! I couldn't possibly let that happen to you, you're so dear to me, and the rest you can probably figure out on your own."

"Damn the managers! You could have been killed coming down here all by yourself! And how could you be so cruel, Rachelle?" his voice asked, dripping with disbelief.

"Well, you see, the opera ghost,"

"Her name is Christine," Erik interrupted.

"Christine, threatened you, Erik. She wouldn't let you go when I asked her to give you to me, that I could keep you safe!" the girl replied, her voice shaking.

"How could you be so cruel, though? You called her ugly, a coward. You know nothing of her life! If I ever hear you say something like that ever again, I will never agree to see you. Now, leave me and Christine alone!" Erik's voice boomed through the cavern. Rachelle had never heard such anger in a voice before! This was not the same boy that she grew up with! "Erik, please, come with me. You can stay at my chateau and you can still have your career here at the opera house."

"I'm sorry, Rachelle, but I can't. You insulted my friend and I need time to forgive you and I'm sure she'll never forgive you."

Christine sat in front of the door, tears wetting her cheeks. She was aware that Erik was moving towards the door, but she didn't want to get up. Removing her mask, she set it carefully on the floor and ran her fingers over her deformity; she had nearly forgotten that, despite its bumpy and rough appearance, it was smooth and cool to the touch. She heard a slight knock on the door and scooted over to the right, allowing Erik to come in.

Erik was a little nervous about going back into the house; Christine was a very prideful person and she hated it when people fought her battles, but he had a feeling that this time it might be different.

"Christine, mon ami, where are you?" he called softly.

"Right next to your foot." She replied as best she could. Leaning down, Erik cupped her face with one hand and felt the tears on it.

"Why are you crying? Don't let Rachelle's words hurt you; she doesn't really mean them."

Shaking her head, Christine reached for her mask, but Erik grabbed it before she could. Raising her eyes up at him, she saw compassion in his oddly colored eyes, but her gaze soon returned to her mask, which was being held carefully in his long fingers. "Can you please give me my mask back?" she whispered; her hand open and ready to take the black porcelain.

Erik could only smile at the question, but he didn't give the mask back. Instead, he ran his fingers through her unruly hair and picked her up, carrying her to her room. Christine let out a tiny giggle when Erik picked her up and told him to put her back down. "I can walk to my own bedroom!"

Plopping her down on the bed, Erik looked at the deformity on Christine's face; it really wasn't as horrible as she always made it out to be. "Stop wearing your mask."

Christine's body stiffened at the request. He wanted her to stop wearing her mask? What if someone found her? She couldn't bear it if someone called her a freak, but her greatest fear was that, the longer Erik saw her face, he would no longer want to come down to her home.

"I'm sorry, Erik, but I can't. I've been wearing it for so long-"

"I don't mean that you can't wear it around the opera, but as long as you are around me, you are not allowed to wear it. I want to be able to see your pretty face." His smile widened when he noticed that tears had begun to well up in her brown eyes.

"Deal."

^.^

"Rachelle! Oh, little sister, where have you been?" Philippe rushed, hugging his sister tightly as if she were to disappear. He had been searching for nearly an hour for her and he was so relieved that she had returned. He was close to getting the police!

"I've been somewhere you wouldn't believe, brother, but I'll tell you later. Right now, I wish to go home." Rachelle yawned, leaning her head against her brother's comforting shoulder. The journey back was long and tiring, but she had made it and all she wanted to do was go home and forget all about Christine.

Philippe squeezed his sister one last time before letting her go. He knew better than to ask her when she told him that she didn't feel like talking and he could understand why; she looked as if she was going to faint! Looking over her, he couldn't help but notice that the hems of her skirts were dirty. What did she do to dirty her clothes? Oh well, he could always have the tailor make her a new dress.

"Then we shall leave. I was so worried about you, Rachelle! When you didn't return right away, I panicked and found Madame Giry, that old bat of a ballet mistress, and asked her to help me. All she did was take me around in circles and not even a half an hour later, I told her that if you didn't return to me safely, I would send for the police. She told me that, if I did send for the police, the managers would be very displeased with me so, I waited patiently for you and now you're here! Don't ever run off like that again." Philippe smiled, holding her out at arms length. Her blonde hair was slightly disoriented and her make-up looked smudged, but that didn't matter! His only sister was safe and sound and that was all he cared about.

"I'm so sorry that I caused so much trouble; I promise that I'll come straight back to the carriage after the opera." She murmured, her clear blue eyes downcast. How was she going to explain to her overprotective brother that she had been underneath the opera house, trying to find a boy he probably didn't even remember?

Philippe noticed how quiet his sister was and he knew that something was wrong, but she would tell him what was wrong in time. For all he knew he could be worrying over nothing. "Alright. Now, let's get in the carriage and go home."

Rachelle nodded her head and walked down the grand staircase, eager to get back home so she could forget all about her encounter with Erik. She had never heard him angry before! In the three years that she knew him when they were younger, he had always been a quiet, gentle boy, but the fire she saw in his blue and gold orbs…it terrified her! And the way he defended Christine! Why would he defend a woman who was deformed?

^.^

Madame Giry sat silently on her bed, thinking about the days events. She hadn't been surprised when Carlotta ran out and when she saw the managers completely hopeless, she had decided to be bold and suggest that Erik would sing. The new managers thought she had lost her mind! The opera that they were going to perform had a woman's lead, but when the heard Erik sing…they had ordered everyone to change the opera! It had been a miracle that they had been able to pull off an entire opera within a few hours. Thank God that they performed _Don Giovanni _often!

It nearly took two hours to just get props out, costumes fitted and changes done to them, and to hand out scripts. By the time everything was settled down and the actual rehearsal began, they only had three hours. But it seemed as if a miracle had been performed, and with the help of a certain opera ghost, they were able to put on a great show. And Erik sang wonderfully! Christine had done such a good job of teaching him! Madame Giry had felt so proud of both of them and especially her own daughter, Meg.

The girl had become Prima Ballerina a little over a month ago and all of the other ballerinas thought that she had made it because her mother was the ballet mistress, but what they failed to forget was that they all auditioned for the position and none of them even come close to Meg's audition! Today, while the whole company was in chaos, she had been able to gather the corps and made them practice the ballets until their feet nearly fell off. Even though the girls did miss a few steps and they once came in on the wrong scene, they had danced beautifully. Meg had danced beautifully.

Hearing a knock at her door, Madame Giry rose from her bed and frowned when she saw her daughter standing at her door, her petite body shaking. Giving a sigh, she guided the trembling girl inside and set her on the bed. What would Meg be doing here so late at night? She had another performance tomorrow and she didn't want her to be tired.

"Why are you shaking, my dear?"

Meg looked up at her mother, a smile on her face despite her trembling. "Maman, the Vicomte de Chagny asked me to go to lunch with him tomorrow!" she exclaimed, unable to hold in her excitement any longer.

Madame Giry stared at her daughter, not quite believing that what Meg was saying was true. The Vicomte asked her Meg to lunch? Why would such a wealthy man ask her daughter?

Seeing the shock on her mother's face, Meg began to explain, "Well, while he was waiting for his sister to return from Erik's room, I asked him if he wanted anything to eat or drink and he said yes. So, I led him downstairs to the kitchen and I fixed him some tea, but when I gave him the cup, he refused. I asked him why he at first accepted and then refused and all he told me was that he had changed his mind. At first I thought he was being a snob, but then he grabbed my hand and asked me to lunch and that was that! Mother, I thought Vicomtes didn't notice girls like me; I'm only the Prima Ballerina after all."

"Meg, you're a beautiful young woman with an equally beautiful personality and if the Vicomte de Chagny is only going after you because of your outer beauty, we'll send the opera ghost after him." Madame Giry laughed as her daughter giggled at the joke. Ever since she was a tiny girl, Meg knew that Christine was the opera ghost and she had told her to make sure that nobody else found out, but she still didn't know that Erik and Christine were best friends.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind knocking him down a few notches if he did love me for my looks, which I received from my lovely mother."

"You better not be mocking me, Meghan Alexandria Giry. Now, is that all you wanted to tell me?"

Nodding her head, Meg made her way towards the door, but stopped and turned around to face her mother, a small grin on her face. "Je t'aime, Maman. Bonne nuit."

**It's done! I'm so happy! I'll hopefully be updating one of my stories tomorrow after school and keep your fingers crossed that I'll pass my algebra final. **

**Erik: I thought it was science you were worried about?**

**Me: I'm not nervous about that! I get to use my composition notebook for that. It's algebra that I'm worried about. **

**Christine: You get to use your notes for your science final? You have an amazingly nice teacher. **

**Me: I do! Alright, I've been asked by a couple of people how old everybody is at this point in time so I'm only going to do this once and more than likely I'll post it on my profile. Erik: 20 Christine: 18 Rachelle: 18 Philippe: 24 Meg: 21 Madame Giry: 47**

**I'm also going to put up an age chart for my other story ****Home Is Where I Belong**** mainly for my own benefit because I keep forgetting how old everybody is! **

**Christine: I'm really 18? Wow, I'm a lot younger than I thought I would be!**

**Me: Of course you are! At the beginning of the story you were six! Oh, I almost forgot, I'm writing a story with a friend of mine, Zanessahsmfan2009, and it's called ****Secrets****. It is a ****Twilight****/****HSM**** story and while I despise ****HSM ****with a fiery passion, I'm doing it because I wanted to write with my friend. Okay, I'm done rambling now! So remember everybody: Read,**

**Christine: Review,**

**Erik: And Fave!**

**^.^**


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